They know. They meowing know. I arrived home shortly after lunch, and I have not had a moment without a pile of cats smothering me with love every since. I appreciate the attention and the sentiment. Less so the logistics of finding a comfortable position to maintain for far too long underneath one to three overly warm bodies draped heavily across me. In fact, at this very moment, I am experiencing that shockingly rare trick of touching all five cats at one time. (Athena under my left arm, Rabbit on my thighs, Harvey on my ankles, Alfred on my left against my knee, Jackie on my right against my ankle, while I am reclined on my bed. Rare, but also so uncomfortably warm...)
They are right, I do need extra attention today, but I'd prefer it from a biped with opposable thumbs. The chemotherapy port went in this morning, and I was not prepared for how it would feel. I should have done more research ahead of it. The best I did was hear from two people who have gone through it, and said it made life much easier. I didn't ask anyone about how it feels as the lidocaine wears off, and one goes back to moving against gravity. Let's just say that they put it in with me lying down, this large acorn sized device and catheter that drapes over the top of my clavicle. They didn't warn me that as soon as gravity started pulling down on the one remaining intact breast that it would tug me over and make me this uncomfortable. Whenever I walk, I hunch over, holding up that side so I can't feel it pull so badly. I'm actually really distressed by this, and I've spent about four hours reclining on my bed so that there's no more tugging. I'm praying that it's just the insult of having the implant, and that it will heal quickly and completely. I'm scared that's not the whole impact of this procedure.
The nurses and doctor who took care of me today were genuinely wonderful people. I liked having their company, and not just because they made a point of doing everything they could to make me comfortable through the process. The nurse we saw the most kept stopping me when I'd apologize for asking for too much by insisting that it was the All About Me day. Still, getting my IV was awful (I was a bleeder today). I had to wait more than an hour for the antibiotics to infuse, because I'm allergic to so many and had to have one that requires a long delivery. In fact, they swapped the schedule, and rather than going back right after 8 am, I didn't get in until 10. But this was in my best interests, so I didn't complain. And for all I had hoped the Versed would have knocked me out, not even the combination of it and Benadryl was enough to make me lose consciousness. I was awake the whole time, underneath the drape that kept me from seeing a whole lot, but I was relaxed enough not to tense up while they cut and threaded and what-not.
I'm curious what it will look like as it heals. I'm more curious how much I'll get used to it once it does heal.
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